Alliance Headquarters, Crown of Stars Hall.
Tonight, it was no longer a banquet hall, but a temple of victory, a carnival of arrogance.
The grand celebration of the victory over the retreating Shadow of the Great Old Ones was reaching its climax.
The dome's projection was no longer of stars, but a continuous loop of the Alliance fleet's heroic sweep of the remaining aberrants, scenes of cheering citizens on liberated planets, and the reassuring, magnificent fortress images of the Trigg Fortress Star Cluster.
The stirring triumphal symphony was deafening, drowning out all rational voices.
Guests, dressed in their most opulent attire, wore expressions of almost pathological, post-disaster euphoria and inflated self-confidence.
Wine flowed like water, and delicacies filled the tables.
The air was thick with synthetic fragrances, food aromas, and a dizzying anesthetic called victory.
"Look! This is the power of the Alliance!"
"Under the wise leadership of Regent Trigg, and the invincible might of White Lion, what Great Old Ones? They are nothing but insignificant insects!"
A general from Trigg's Faction, raising his glass, shouted drunkenly, drawing a chorus of agreement and sycophantic laughter.
"Titan technology, combined with the wisdom and courage of our Alliance, is enough to usher in a new era; the future of the universe belongs to us!"
A representative from the Council of Elders beamed, as if the Alliance had already reached the pinnacle of cosmic civilization.
"Commander Mark? Oh, that wanderer… his intelligence was indeed… well… somewhat useful."
Someone commented fairly, yet with a hint of condescending dismissiveness in their tone.
"However, what truly secured the victory was our strong fortresses and powerful fleet!"
In a corner, Allen, Eve, Rudy, and several core members of the Order Alliance felt as if they were in an absurd play.
They looked at the distorted faces around them, flushed with alcohol and victory, and listened to the arrogant remarks, feeling only coldness and vigilance.
Eve clenched her fists, her knuckles white.
Rudy's face was ashen, and he tried to argue several times, but Allen stopped him with a look.
Allen held his almost untouched glass, his gaze sweeping across the room like a calm chess player, noting everyone's expressions, silently reciting the Titan's warning.
"Vigilance… eternal… vigilance…"
In a luxuriously decorated, soundproof lounge adjacent to the noisy hall, the atmosphere was completely different.
The heavy alloy door blocked out the noise from outside.
Trigg sat in the deep purple high-backed chair at the head of the table, the fingertips of his mechanical prosthetic hand tapping rhythmically on the armrest, a steady click-clack like a countdown.
Opposite him sat the Speaker of the Council of Elders and two of the most powerful Elders.
"Mr. Speaker, Elders…"
Trigg's voice was low and steady, devoid of emotion.
"The Great Old Ones are retreating, proving my strategy is correct; fortresses are the cornerstone of survival."
The Speaker smiled, but his eyes gleamed with shrewd calculation.
"Your Excellency, Regent, you speak truly! Your iron fist and foresight are the stabilizing force of the Alliance! However…"
He changed the subject, with a hint of well-placed concern.
"The Order Alliance, relying on Commander Mark's legacy and the support of the Titan Avatars, has considerable influence in the fringe star systems."
"They are winning hearts and minds under the banner of rescue and reconstruction; if this continues… it may not be beneficial for the Alliance."
"Indeed."
Another Elder chimed in, his tone tinged with greed.
"Those newly liberated resource planets, rich in key elements for manufacturing the 'Titan's Fist,' are now primarily supplying their own production lines, which hinders the overall improvement of our defensive capabilities."
The other Elder was even more direct.
"And the Titan Avatars! The knowledge they possess is the true treasure!"
"With Mark gone, our Council of Elders possesses the top-tier research teams and the most complete facilities; we should rightfully lead deeper cooperation! Not let Allen, that young upstart, monopolize the communication channels!"
Trigg's gaze swept over the three, a barely perceptible curve forming on his lips.
He knew what these old foxes were thinking.
To carve up the Order Alliance's territory and resources, seize direct contact with the Titan Avatars, further weaken Mark's Faction, and simultaneously use his (Trigg's) power to suppress Allen and his group, so they could reap the benefits.
"Your concerns are not unfounded."
Trigg spoke slowly, his voice imbued with the confidence of one in control.
"The Alliance needs more efficient integration, and the Order Alliance's good deeds in the fringe star systems do indeed disperse valuable resources and can easily breed unnecessary… independent tendencies."
"As for the Titan's knowledge… it should naturally be controlled and utilized by the Alliance's core and most reliable forces."
He leaned slightly forward, the eerie blue glow of his mechanical prosthetic hand particularly striking in the dim lounge.
"I have a proposal: led by the Council of Elders, establish a Resource Management Committee. The jurisdiction of all liberated planets and resource planets under the Order Alliance will be temporarily transferred to this committee for unified allocation."
"Allen and his core team… can be promoted to senior advisors of the committee and recalled to headquarters, so they can better… utilize their talents."
"This way, resources can be centralized, and the unity of the Alliance can be strengthened."
Trigg's words were like a meticulously woven net.
Surrender territory and resources, sideline Allen and his group, and remove them from the center of power!
The Elders' eyes lit up.
Although they knew Trigg's move was also to get a share of the pie, and possibly even use the committee to further expand his influence, in their view, this was better than letting Mark's Faction continue to grow!
Moreover, with them leading the committee, there was huge room for manipulation!
"Splendid! Your Excellency, Regent, your foresight is remarkable!"
The Speaker clapped his hands in praise, his eyes gleaming with even greater greed.
"This way, resources will be optimized, and Alliance policies unified; this is truly the best strategy, and our Council of Elders will fully support the committee's work!"
The other Elders also chimed in, as if they could already see the cake being divided.
They were absorbed in their power calculations, unaware of the fleeting, cold mockery in Trigg's eyes, like one looking at lambs to be slaughtered.
To make a deal with a tiger?
They were the sacrifices about to be offered to the altar!
After reaching an unspoken agreement with the Council of Elders, Trigg, citing urgent military matters, hastily concluded his social obligations at the banquet.
He ignored the fawning faces trying to continue their conversations and, surrounded by his personal guards, took his exclusive shuttle, silently leaving the bustling headquarters and flying towards a top-secret research base located deep within the Bedrock Fortress Star System.
The base was guarded by multiple dimensional spell-locks and heavily armed forces.
Deep within the laboratory, the air was as cold as a tomb, with only the faint hum of various precision instruments and the heart-pounding, steady energy pulses of the containment field stabilizers.
The Great Old Ones' fragment from the Taviel Avatar still floated in a pale blue energy field, countless distorted doorways flickering within it, emitting faint but alluring and malicious whispers.
Trigg put on the highest-grade protective suit, though he knew it would be useless against true power.
Standing before the main console, his face appeared unusually pale in the pale blue light, and at the edges of his pupils, a few barely perceptible, black smoke-like threads subtly entwined.
These were the materialized traces of the Great Old Ones' whispers eroding his mind.
He felt an uncontrollable excitement and… restlessness.
"Report on the progress."
Trigg's voice echoed in the empty laboratory, with a hint of imperceptible hoarseness.
"Your Excellency, Regent!"
The chief scientist was an old man, deeply brainwashed and with only fanaticism in his eyes; his aged voice trembled with excitement.
"The Mind Key prototype… has completed its final debugging!"
"Based on reverse engineering of the mental frequency nano-structures within the fragment, we successfully extracted and purified its core code chain for mental guidance and subconscious implantation!"
"While it cannot directly replicate its divine power to distort space, its effect on… influencing and controlling the consciousness of living organisms… is theoretically very significant!"
Trigg's gaze fell on an inconspicuous silver metal briefcase next to the main console.
Inside the case, three nail-sized, black crystal-like prisms lay silently, with faint, shimmering light faintly visible within them.
This was the "Mind Key."
This was his ultimate weapon, which he intended to use to control the Council of Elders and ultimately the entire Alliance!
He planned, at the upcoming committee inauguration, to subtly implant these keys into the Speaker and core Elders through the environment or contact, unbeknownst to them, quietly rewriting their wills and turning them into his most loyal puppets!
"How is the feedback from the test subjects?"
Trigg pressed on, his tone urgent and unquestioning.
"The 17th batch of volunteers, after implantation of the key prototypes, showed that their obedience and thought pattern reshaping efficiency both met the expected targets!"
"Side effects… are still within a controllable range, mainly manifested as short-term memory blur and mild emotional euphoria…"
The scientist reported quickly, deliberately omitting the failed cases of mental breakdown and brain burnout in the experimental reports.
"Very good."
Trigg's lips curled into a nearly sinister grin; he extended his mechanical prosthetic hand, his fingertips gently brushing the cold metal case.
Power!
The power to control everything!
As long as he controlled the Council of Elders and then gradually devoured the Order Alliance, the entire Alliance would completely prostrate itself at his feet!
By then, whether it was Mark or the lurking Great Old Ones… he would possess the capital to converse with them, and even… control them!
The whispers of the Great Old Ones' fragment seemed to become clearer at this moment, filled with approval and temptation, like the abyss calling a gambler to place a bet.
The black threads in Trigg's eyes seemed to deepen a shade.
He was immersed in his delusion of controlling power, yet he did not realize that the fire he was playing with originated from the very abyss he sought to resist.
Was the core code of that "Mind Key" truly completely under control?
Were the whispers from the fragment merely approving?
… … …
A distant, uncharted desolate star system.
Mark's Ark glided like a ghost through a nebula composed of ancient starship wrecks and shattered asteroids.
The spatial structure here was unusually fragile, retaining a strong aura of Great Old Ones' corruption, but this also shielded it from most conventional scans.
Suddenly, the ship's passive sensor array detected an extremely faint, yet unusually fresh, abnormal energy signal.
Unlike any Great Old Ones' derivative he had previously recorded, this signal carried a… spore's vitality and a hidden invasiveness.
Mark's molten gold eyes instantly locked onto the direction of the signal source.
The Ark changed course, quietly approaching.
Inside the wreckage of a massive, long-rusted civilian colony ship, Mark discovered a bizarre sight.
The cold metal inner walls of the wreck were covered with a thin layer of deep purple, moss-like substance.
This moss silently wriggled and proliferated, emitting a faint phosphorescence.
Even more alarming, in the central area of the moss, extremely tiny, door-shaped crystalline structures had formed, slowly absorbing the faint radiation from the surrounding space and… the despairing emotions contained within the wreck's metal!
"This is! A new form of corruption…"
Mark crouched down, cautiously approaching the deep purple moss.
The moment he made contact, the moss contracted violently, and the tiny door-like crystals suddenly lit up. An extremely subtle, almost imperceptible mental pulse, following Mark's probe, shot back towards an unknown coordinate deep in the universe, and then the entire patch of moss rapidly withered and turned to dust!
A trap!
A carefully designed mental beacon that exploited his curiosity and vigilance!
Mark's face darkened.
He immediately realized that the Great Old Ones were actively exposing new clues, luring him to track them!
They knew he wouldn't let any anomaly go unchecked.
His molten gold eyes pierced through layers of mist, looking towards the direction where the pulse disappeared.
There, the spatial structure presented an unnatural, inwardly collapsing vortex shape, like a meticulously arranged wound.
Even though he knew it might be a trap, to obtain critical information about the Great Old Ones' new movements, he had no choice.
The Ark's engine power increased, and it sailed resolutely towards the spatial vortex.
He had to find out, where exactly was Taviel trying to guide him with this new type of spore beacon?
And what was hidden there?
The universe's darkest abyss, the lightless edge.
The massive gate constructed of filthy flesh had stabilized, but its scale had not expanded.
Several of Ysogtha's slippery, scaled, and decaying seaweed-covered colossal tentacles had successfully extended, slowly swaying in the void, each movement causing viscous ripples in space, leaving behind cold, suffocating mental pollution.
Its unnameable main shadow still floated in the chaos behind the gate, exuding a terrifying pressure that could drown all things.
A distorted stream of pure mental energy, like lightning crossing dimensions, came from an immeasurably distant other side, precisely projected onto the core of Ysogtha's vast will.
It was Taviel!
"Ysogtha… Sleeper… welcome… to… descend…"
Taviel's will was full of the static of tearing space, though weak, it still carried the cunning of controlling the path.
"This realm… fragile… beings… plump… ignorant…"
"Drown… them…"
Ysogtha's response was not a sound, but a viscous and cold torrent of will directly affecting the soul, like the sighs of billions of drowned echoing in the abyss.
"Extinguish… civilization… sink… into… eternal… stasis… and… coldness…"
"The prey… is in… the trap…"
Taviel's will carried a hint of malicious triumph, transmitting the image of Mark tracking the spore beacon.
"His… curiosity… is… the best… bait… leading him… to… the spatial… weakness… His… power… will be… the key… to tearing… open… a larger… passage…"
"Key… power… tear… open… the cage…" Ysogtha's torrent of will stirred with a ripple of greed.
"More… brethren… hungry… need… a feast…"
"A feast… needs… sacrifices…" Taviel's will was cold and cruel.
"The Alliance… fortress… seems… solid… but inside… it is already… rotten… filled with… fear… and… treacherous… souls… they are… the best… fuel…"
"Trigg, that… ant… chasing power… his… ambition and madness are… opening… the back door… of the fortress… for us!"
"Internal… chaos… in the Alliance… the sacrifices will reach their peak… then… the gathered despair and soul energy… will be enough… to… pave… the way… for the descent… of a greater… being…"
"Wait… for the moment…"
Ysogtha's will slowly subsided, like a deep-sea current.
"The drowning… is about… to begin…"
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